


Pressured for Daylight

by dearxalchemist



Category: Emerald City (TV 2016)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Domestics, F/M, Fluff, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:46:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9680147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearxalchemist/pseuds/dearxalchemist
Summary: "I don't think Sylvie needs his protection."“Well Toto is going to give it to her anyways. It’s what dogs do.” Dorothy smiles finally and sets the towel aside, walking past the table and brushing his shoulder with her own to peer out the window. Her smile grows wider as Sylvie goes round and round with the dog, giggling madly -- it’s the happiest she’s ever seen the little girl and she wants nothing more than to keep Sylvie happy, safe and happy. A soft sigh leaves her lips and she leans along the window frame just as Lucas’ hand settles on the edge of her hip. He is careful with touching her since their fight.





	

Sylvie squeals. It’s a sound of pure joy as Toto hops on the front of his paws, playing with the young girl as she throws a stick across the meadow just for him to chase. Toto barks, runs after the stick and brings it back. The scene makes Lucas crack a smile. His tough mask is slowly breaking as he watches the two of them play. The farmhouse smells like warm stew, there’s a faint layer of dust that covers everything but it doesn’t stop him from imaging a home like this. He turns from the window and there’s Dorothy by the sink, hands submerged in warm water, washing away the remains of their dinner. Her back is to him, her head is down, and she’s humming a song that sounds a lot like the one she produced for him in the middle of the forest. 

“They are inseparable.” Lucas comments quietly, there’s still a tension in air around them. Ever since she told him the Wizard’s guards weren’t coming, they’ve barely talked. She lied to him, apologized, kissed his palm and they settled things. 

“That’s a good thing,” She hums over her shoulder, rinsing the last bowl and setting it aside to dry. Dorothy grabs the hand towel and dries off as she turns to him, leaning against the sink, “Toto will protect her.” 

“I do not think Sylvie needs Toto’s protection.” He suggests taking one last look out the window to see Sylvie running in circles with the big dog. She throws another stick and the dog takes off after it, retrieving it just to bring it back. They repeat the process, over and over.

“Well Toto is going to give it to her anyways. It’s what dogs do.” Dorothy smiles finally and sets the towel aside, walking past the table and brushing his shoulder with her own to peer out the window. Her smile grows wider as Sylvie goes round and round with the dog, giggling madly -- it’s the happiest she’s ever seen the little girl and she wants nothing more than to keep Sylvie happy, safe and happy. A soft sigh leaves her lips and she leans along the window frame just as Lucas’ hand settles on the edge of her hip. He is careful with touching her since their fight. 

“I want her safe too.” Lucas hums and he leans down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. His fingers curl around her hip, bunching up her flannel shirt. Dorothy closes her eyes and pretends just for a moment that this is their home. That the farmhouse isn’t a stop on the path to Glinda. Sylvie’s giggles still fill her ears and she turns her head up, catching Lucas off guard in a kiss that makes him give off a small groan. His mouth is warm along hers, softer than expected and his hand grips at her harder, pulling her in closer. There’s no space left between them, just thick layers of clothes. Dorothy’s fingers are in his coat. She pulls at the leather, drags the pads of her fingers over the zipper’s trail before pushing it over his shoulders. It’s not a slow process like she wants -- this is something she needs. They don’t have much time for privacy and Lucas seems to catch on as his hands fist in her open shirt. 

His coat hits the floor then her flannel, then she she loses a boot just as he wraps both arms around her waist and hoists her up. He holds her carefully, lifting her onto the edge of the kitchen table just to have her pull him back in for another desperate kiss. Toto barks somewhere in the distance and Sylvie laughs again. Dorothy hums into their kiss and Lucas breaks it just to kiss the edge of her jaw. Slowly he trails down, hands on her knees, nails dragging down the front of her denim jeans. He presses a solid kiss to the edge of her collarbone and Dorothy loses her breath. Her heart hammers away in her chest, beating like a war drum on the cage of her ribs as he slowly lowers himself to the edge of her grey undershirt. His lips linger there as his hands find the laces of her boots. He wants to take his time but the sun is setting and soon Sylvie will be back in the house and they won’t be able to have this moment again. 

Lucas undoes the laces, pulls her feet free and she toes off her socks as his hands close around her ankles, gently wrapping around the soft bones there, thumb stroking high under the cuff of her jeans. 

“Lucas,” His name is a whisper on her lips. She sounds out of breath and it makes his own heart skip a beat as he draws his gaze up from the slopes of her knees to the heaving of her chest to the endless pools of her dark eyes, he wants to drown in her. She calls him after her home, but he can’t deny the pull she has over him. Dorothy is home, she is the first beacon of hope he’s had since being hauled up onto the post in Limbo. The first clear memory he has is of her, “Lucas come here, please.” 

She begs, he comes. He lifts himself up from his knees and closes the space between them, once more sealing his mouth along hers. They kiss with a sense of urgency, pressed for time. His hands drift to her shoulders but Dorothy is less cautious. Her hands pull at his white undershirt, tugging it out of his pants. The shirt hangs from his shoulders and she helps push it away breaking the kiss to marvel at the scars that litter his chest. She lowers her gaze, drags the tip of her index finger over one particularly long scar. The tissue is a dull pink color, still healing. Dorothy swallows hard and parts her lips as if to apologize for his wounds but Lucas stops her. His hand covers hers and he presses his palm flat over the back of hers, sliding her hand away from his past and along the edge of his pants. 

“How did you get that one?” She asks, swallowing hard as she edges along the table, gently pressing her knee to his thigh. 

“I don’t know,” He breathes, “But it doesn’t matter now.” 

Dorothy nods and he ducks back down for another kiss. They kiss until their lungs burn and Dorothy kisses him just a minute longer, memorizes the feel of his lips on hers before she drags her hands over the front of his belt, undoing it and tossing it to the floor. The heavy clank echoes in the farmhouse but they don’t break apart. Lucas’ hands drag down to her waist and it’s here he finds the edge of her grey tank top. He gathers the fabric up and pushes it high over her head, revealing miles of beautiful flesh. Her shirt hits the ground and he breaks the kiss once more just to marvel at her. He drags his palm over her side, watches the way her stomach jumps under his attention -- smiling when she holds back a laugh as the tips of his fingers graze along her ribs. 

 

“I’m ticklish,” She exhales and he draws his fingers over the spot again just to see hear her laugh. She wraps her hands around his waist and pulls him in closer, “Enough of that.” 

He nods and ducks inwards only to skip her lips. He blows a bit of her dark hair away from her neck and gooseflesh pricks along her skin. Lucas presses an open kiss to the column of her throat and then repeats the process, peppering kisses from one side of her throat to the other, down the edge of her collarbone, tracing the slope of her breast to the edge of her bra that is a light blue color. He plucks at the strap on her shoulder and groans when her fingers slip into his pants. The edges of her nails scrape along his hips and down. He’s already hard and she knows it. She pulls at the edges of his pants, lowers them just enough to his thighs so she can wrap her hand around his cock. 

A groan escapes him and echoes along her skin as he buries himself there, forehead on her sternum and mouth on the edge of her breast. Dorothy’s breathing picks up pace, slow and shallow, he can hear the beating of her heart, can feel the excitement thrumming across her nerves. She gives him long strokes, thumb running over the head of his cock and he swears silently before dragging his hands up. He fumbles with the clasp on her bra, listens to her laugh as he breaks one of the hooks with an impatient tug. A sound of frustration leaves him and he finally gets it free, tossing it aside and moving his hands down to her waist to make quick work of her jeans. His lips fall on a dusky colored nipple and she tosses her dark head back when he drags her underwear down along with her jeans. Dorothy kicks them the rest of the way off and squeezes him once more, dragging her palm harder over him. He gently bites along her nipple only to listen to her inhale just to drop a kiss to the flat of her belly. Slowly Dorothy releases him, her fingers graze his thigh and he drags her to the edge of the table, kneeling between her legs. 

“Lucas -- ah!” She leans back on the tables, elbows holding her up as he slides one of her legs over his shoulder and buries himself there between her thighs. His jaw is rough with scruff, but his lips are warm and soothing. He presses kisses to her thighs, licks along the folds of her cunt, rendering her to nothing but breathless sighs within a matter of moments. The muscles in her legs tremble and a handsome grin pulls at his lips when she shudders as he drags his tongue slow and deliberate, dipping down between the folds. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and she swallows down a cry as he laps against her, wet sounds echoing in the kitchen. A flush burns at her cheeks as she finds herself enjoying it all, the feel of him, the sound of him -- of both of them. Lucas pushes her to the edge but doesn’t let her fall. He slowly pulls back just to get the strangled sound free from the confines her lips. He leaves her wanting and gasping. She pulls at his arms, drags a hand through his short hair just to grasp onto him and she pulls him high. He rises from the ground, kisses her chest, drags his lips along her jaw and then finds her mouth once more. 

Dorothy can taste herself on his lips. Even more so on the tip of her tongue when she coaxes him in for a deeper kiss. Lucas fits perfectly between her legs, his hips press into her own and she encourages him on, raising her own against his. She silently demands to be closer and presses smaller kisses in between his grand ones, her teeth tugging at his bottom lip and her hands curling over his shoulders. Dorothy’s nails dig into his back and he barely has a moment to catch his breath before she reaches between them and takes hold of him once more. She strokes his cock, slower this time, coaxing him in closer, kissing the edge of his scruff. His name lingers on her lips, “Lucas, Lucas, Lucas…” 

He follows her gentle pulling. He drags his hips over hers and presses the head of his cock into her. The heat of her alone makes his self-control dwindle down to nothing. He buries himself into her and she gasps against his mouth. The air around them goes still and Lucas bites back a groan as she tightens her legs around him, hooking her ankles together. She pulls him as far as she can and he watches as her eyes slam shut, the fan of her lashes on her cheeks, the twist of her lips -- she is beautiful. There’s a fine layer of sweat already beading up over her flesh and he licks his lips in anticipation of dragging her tongue over her worn muscles, worshiping her all over again. 

“Move,” She demands in a breathy whisper, arching her hips up and begging for him to keep going. They’re pressed for time, losing daylight -- losing privacy. He doesn’t have to be told twice. With an exaggerated sigh he drags his hips back nearly pulling out of her completely before he thrusts into her once more, losing himself in the feel of her. Her hips rock up into his and he finds a rhythm, meeting her thrust for thrust. Her hands drag over his shoulders, down the slope of his spine where she traces scars he doesn’t remember and dips her fingers along the small of his back. She urges him on with soft please, gasping in between her words as she tugs him in closer. They leave very little space between them. Her chest presses into his and his lips are on her throat, her hands pull at his flesh and he thrusts harder, dragging them both to the edge of the table. He drags his hands to her hips and holds her up, thumbs pressing over the soft skin of her thighs, he drags his gaze up to her flushed cheeks there are freckles that dot everywhere across her nose and down her chin. They trail down to her throat and spread out over her chest all just begging someone to connect the dots.

He tries to connect the dots. Kisses each one he can find, drags his lips from her chest to the underside of her jaw before she moans again. He slows his hips, knowing he won’t last much longer, the pressure is too much. She draws him in tighter, drags her hands up his back and wraps her arms around his neck. They press together like broken pieces of the same puzzle, two abandoned souls finding one another again. Dorothy presses her hips up into his and he draws back slow only to slam his hips back into hers. The exaggerated pressure drags her over the edge and he finally lets her go, lets her fall. She is a shuddering mess, gasping under him. A broken form of her name leaves him and falls on her skin. He thrusts into her once more, losing himself, spilling into her without second thought. They are a mess of tangled limbs and snarled hair, broken breathing and dilapidated heartbeats. 

Lucas loses purchase on his legs and sags against her. The table groans under their combined weight and Dorothy hums at the weight of him on her. She draws her fingers up and down over his back, slowly edging her palms over his shoulders and holding onto him a minute longer. There’s still some daylight left in the day, it cuts through the windows and draws shadows on the floor. Lucas lays between her legs and Dorothy mutters something of, ‘ _This feels like home._ ’ but he can’t quite hear her over the sound of his heart pounding away in his ears. 

Toto barks in the distance and she groans softly when he pulls out of her. He leaves behind a sticky mess and guilt wells up in his belly for a moment. She strokes his cheek, wipes away the frown, shaking her head softly as if silently reassuring him that all is well. Dorothy’s thumb strokes over his bottom lip and she drags her knuckle under his chin, tilting his head up, making him look away from the mess they’ve made.

“Come here, please?” She asks softly. 

“We should get cleaned up,” He mutters and draws his mouth over hers once more. Her lips are plush from his stinging kisses and he finds himself marveling at the sight of her, pink in her cheeks and bright lights in her dark eyes. She looks ethereal post orgasm, warm and sated. 

“We should,” She agrees, drawing her hand over his cheek. The tips of her fingers play with the line of his scruff where she gently scratches at it just to see him smile, “We could save time and wash together.” 

He draws his gaze from her to the window behind them. Sylvie is still chasing Toto around in exaggerated oblong circles, her dark hair flowing behind her. Dorothy shifts under him and he lets out a quiet hum, “Saving time is always a priority.” He agrees and leans down once more, kissing her until they lose their breath and from there he lifts her. She clings to him, presses a kiss to his temple and laughs when he grazes her ribs again. 

Together they shower. She scrubs his chest while he takes time on her hair, slowly washing and de-tangling it with his fingers. The water swirls a dark grey color down the drain and they manage to keep their hands to themselves while drying off, dressing just in time for Sylvie to come in, exhausted from playing with the dog. Toto lopes in behind her and they settle in for the evening. The sun slowly sinks in the sky, stars speckle across the clouds and Dorothy enjoys the breeze that floats into the farmhouse as Lucas opens the window for her, just before settling in the small bed with her. They spend the night together as a family. Broken and misplaced, but a family nonetheless. Dorothy smiles as she molds herself to his side, hand on his chest and fingers playing with the coarse hair there, while his own strokes down her spine.

**Author's Note:**

> Basically 3k of smut and I'm not even sorry! All mistakes are my own and I apologize now for them! Feel free to come yell with me about these two over on tumblr @colleenvving!


End file.
